


птичка

by redborya



Category: The Goldfinch (2019), The Goldfinch - Donna Tartt
Genre: Canon Compliant, Early Mornings, Fix-It, Fluff, Getting Sober, M/M, Oneshot, Post-Canon, boreo, boreo cuddles bitch, just a oneshot where they're happy asf, let them be happy, soft boreo, theres no actual plot, theyre happy goddamnit, theyre very cuddly, wrote this in an hour while high, yeah they gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:54:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27226864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redborya/pseuds/redborya
Summary: The tags pretty much sum it up. I wrote this in an hour because there's a serious lack of fics where Boris and Theo are happy and together and everything just works out.
Relationships: Theodore Decker/Boris Pavlikovsky
Comments: 5
Kudos: 73





	птичка

The sun slips through the blinds and warms the small of Theo’s back through the gaps, gently tugging him from sleep. Sleep that lasted throughout the entire night. No nightmares, no panicked groping across the bed for his glasses desperate to determine whether the cold-sweat coating his chest was in fact, sweat and not someone else’s blood. Those nights, plagued with his traumas reflected behind his eyelids, seemed so far away now. Almost a month had gone by without any sort of nightmare, a feat that’s difficult in itself, but even more so with Theo’s adamant refusal for any sort of sleep supplement.  _ No drugs _ , he told Boris, who offered him a small orange prescription bottle filled with a few dozen Rohypnol pills. Boris had dropped it right then and there, gripping Theo in a tight hug as Theo explained he was going to attempt to sober up. Alcohol included. He was plenty supportive, something that had thrown Theo for a loop. He fully expected Boris to say something or other about how life is no fun while sober, but he’d done the exact opposite. He  _ praised _ Theo, saying he wanted to try as well. For the most part, they had succeeded. It was difficult, but Theo and Boris had been off of nearly anything and everything for almost six months. No blow, no Oxy, no nothing. Only an occasional joint here and there, but honestly there didn’t seem a point to smoking anymore. He was relaxed enough as is. He was happy. Boris however, refused to get rid of alcohol, instead choosing to lessen his consumption than abandon the habit entirely. A bottle of vodka that used to last them two hours now remained in the kitchen for weeks, sometimes even a month.  __

Rolling off of his stomach and onto his right side, his back now exposed to the sun, Theo cracks his eyes open. The hotel room was doused in the afternoon’s light. The sunshine golden against the pale walls, the world around him seeming slow and the air had a comfortable heaviness to it. Theo breathed a sigh of relief when a headache didn’t stab behind his eyes. No alcohol, no hangover, something he quickly realized made getting sober a lot easier,  _ incentive. _

The sheets twisted around his body did next to nothing to preserve any sort of heat as the air conditioning kicked on, the soft humming from the unit quickly replaced the comfortable silence. With the chill slowly spreading across his body, Theo squints, noting how truly awful his eyesight is without his glasses and rolls over again towards the left side of the bed. It only takes a matter of seconds to find exactly what he was searching for. His arm snakes around Boris’s waist, dragging him closer in a desperate search for warmth. Boris mutters something under his breath, and without opening his eyes, wraps his arms around Theo, one quickly finding his hair and the other pressing into the small of his back. The two of them lay chest to chest, a position Theo hungrily accepts, grateful for both the body heat and the gentle brush of Boris’s finger’s against his bare skin. 

“ _ты, блядь, разбудил меня,"_ Boris mumbles thickly, his voice gravelly and heavily accented with sleep. Theo smiles, pressing his nose into Boris’s hair, placing a quick kiss on top of his head, squeezing him tightly in his arms. 

“Hm?” Theo hums. Boris slowly traces patterns onto Theo’s back with his fingers, burying his head into his chest. 

“You woke me up,” He groans, tangling their legs together, shifting his body to lay on top of Theo. Shaking his head, Theo pulls the covers up to cover them both, quickly returning his hands to Boris. One on his back, the other combing through sleep-tousled hair, “Very rude, Potter,” he sighs, “Is too early.” He curls tighter against Theo, using his chest as a pillow. Theo glances over at the clock on the nightstand. Twelve thirty in the afternoon isn’t exactly early by any standard. 

“It’s past noon.” Theo yawns, propping his chin on top of Boris’s head, eyes unfocused as he stares straight ahead, fingers twisting in Boris’s hair as the sun creeps further inside the privacy of their hotel room. 

Originally Theo had meant to travel to Boston alone. One of Hobie’s changelings had been tracked down, with Boris’s help, and Theo arranged to drive the full seven hours round trip in one day. When Boris heard of this plan, Theo thought he was going to blow a gasket. It began as Boris wanting to keep Theo company, then Boris said he read on some tourist site that Boston had one of those duck-boat tours he was itching to check out, _A car and a boat in one? Only in America! Is actually genius, Potter, look!_ And slowly it had been arranged for Boris and Theo to drive up to Boston on Friday, spend the weekend in the city and drive back Sunday evening. Theo overheard Hobie on the phone to Pippa call it a “romantic getaway,” which made Theo’s face burn white-hot. Boris referred to it as a road trip, even if the drive was less than four hours in one direction. Plus, wasn’t an RV or van of some sort required for a road trip to be considered a ‘road trip?’ Whatever it was, Theo was more than happy for Bori’s willingness to tag along. _Is fun to travel for reasons other than business, yes?_ Only to burst into laughter realizing Theo _was_ technically there on business. 

It was the first time they had been alone for more than a few hours in the seven months since Antwerp. In that time, Theo had called things off with Kitsey, who handled things much better than anyone could’ve expected. In earnest, it stung how easily Kitsey was able to move forward after ending her romantic relations with Theo, even though he was, admittedly, a bit ecstatic to finally get out of that complicated mess of an engagement. They even kept in contact, chatting once a week, Boris, with his reward money, set off to tie up as many loose ends as possible, claiming that he had amassed enough money that working as an ‘entrepreneur’ was no longer needed. _I could live seven lifetimes with money to spare! Why work?_ Yet, Boris had unconsciously begun to putter around the shop, just had Theo done before his move to Vegas. He spent his day’s ping-ponging between helping Hobie in the workshop, and pestering Theo in the store above as he tried to meet with customers, sometimes calling across the store to Theo, praising a particular piece, which consequently drew customers in. Boris never possessed an expensive taste, but somehow he always found the most expensive of antiques and it usually ended with a customer leaving a good couple hundred dollars poorer. When Boris asked, Theo insisted that he wanted to continue working at the shop, no matter what money he had. Life was far from stressful, and the shop gave him some sort of routine. Still, the break away from it all was much needed, for both of them. and Theo was still welcomed with open arms to casual dinners at the Barbours. All of the Barbours, Kitsey included, took an immediate liking to Boris. Something Theo never expected. It was odd, seeing his two lives clash, and instead of some chaotic mess, it went as smoothly as it could have gone. 

“Let me guess, we should get up then, yes?” Boris yawned, lips brushing against Theo’s collarbones as he spoke. Theo could feel him smile against his skin as he slowly carded through Boris’s curls. Lazy mornings like these were rare between them. Theo, though in the process of searching for an apartment of his own, was still living with Hobie. Boris had set up a permanent residence at some fancy hotel a few blocks over, usually joining Hobie and Theo for breakfast. Most of the time, if they _were_ to spend the night together, Boris would burst into the shop, and after ensuring Hobie was in the room, demands he and Theo must go out to celebrate some made-up occasion. Then Theo would allow himself to be dragged out of, shouting on his way out to Hobie that _Yes, I’ll stay safe. I’ll be back by tomorrow morning at the latest_. In reality, instead of spending the night camped out at a bar or club, Boris would lead Theo back to his hotel room. Sometimes just to enjoy one another’s company without the threat of prying eyes, although he knows Hobie wouldn’t care, and sometimes more. Things they certainly could never do with Hobie home, even in the early hours of the morning. Hobie, god bless him, was a light sleeper, and there was no way Boris and Theo would be able to avoid Hobie’s suspicions, especially with the old rusty springs of Welty’s old bed. So, they opted for Boris’s thick-walled, non-rusty-springed hotel room.

Most of the time though, they spent nights separate, half due to Boris’s acute lack of an inside-voice and the thin walls, and also because neither of them were quite ready to take that leap yet and announce their relationship which would eliminate the sneaking around, but raise more eyebrows whenever Boris did spend the night. What that relationship entailed was also part of the issue. What they were to one another was still unclear in itself, though Boris had the mind to stop describing their relationship as brothers. In Theo’s opinion, the term ‘ _ brothers’  _ was never quite accurate. Labels didn’t matter to them anyway, everything had come so naturally, so easy, it didn't necessarily matter. Boris belonged to Theo, and Theo to Boris. It had begun as drunken kisses as children, fleeting moments of intimacy in Antwerp, only for them to end up like this. Mornings spent wrapped up in one another, one body indistinguishable from the other. It was heaven on earth for Theo. Feeling loved and being able to reciprocate in earnest. Communication failed to ever be an issue, words never needed half the time, every question could be answered by the quirk of an eyebrow or the shrug of shoulders. Life was especially pleasant in the mornings like these or rather, afternoons. The hazy yellow glow of the sun warming their bodies, slow touches, and fond smiles. Sometimes Theo felt his heart would burst, that never again would he be able to feel as happy as he did in those moments, yet with every one of Boris’s boisterous entrances into the shop, sometimes with coffee or a new pastry he wanted to try from a new bakery he discovered, or the flinging open of the hotel room door to reveal a smiling Boris, the feeling rose anew in his chest. He was happy. Truly and genuinely. 

Theo hums, closing his eyes and nuzzling into Boris’s hair, “We should probably get up.” He sighs but makes no move to do so, and neither does Boris, still sleepy and the opposite of a morning person. He slides his hands down Boris’s bare-back, tracing scars he knows that are there but he cannot see. Boris practically beams at him, smacking a kiss onto the corner of Theo’s lips, his whole body tensing around Theo in a sleepy embrace, head tucked into the hollow of Theo’s throat. 

“Please, _птичка_ , we can watch movies all day, get room service!” He gives Theo another wide, pleading grin. Theo swoops forward, capturing Boris’s lips in a proper kiss, lazy and slow, his heart fluttering each and every time their lips connect. A feeling Theo knows won’t fade. Boris cocks his head as Theo pulls away, propping himself up on his elbows. “That a yes?” 

“I don’t care,” Never had those words felt so light to Theo.

“Please do not say, ‘as long as I have you,’ or some stupid shit,” Boris teases, hair flopping into his eyes as he rolls off of Theo to lay next to him, reaching across the bed for the television remote. Theo leans into him the second he’s upright, propping his head on Boris’s shoulder. Boris gives him a quizzical look as Theo grabs at his hand, interlocking their fingers. “What has gotten into you?” and with a gentle poke at each of Theo’s ribs with his free hand, “You are very cuddly today, _детка_ ,” Theo just tucks his head into Boris’s neck, eyeing the purple bruise that had begun to form there overnight. 

“Just happy.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Translations (in order of appearance)  
> ты, блядь, разбудил меня - you fucking woke me up  
> птичка - birdie  
> детка - baby  
> -  
> Additional Notes:  
> You can pry Boris calling Theo bird-related pet-names from my cold dead hands. That shit adorable.


End file.
